


In Your Hands

by Arithra



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: M/M, POV Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Permanent Injury, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), acts of service, meaning Dimitri's poor hands, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:00:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27403174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithra/pseuds/Arithra
Summary: After the war Felix notices that Dimitri has problems with his hands and tries to find a way to fix it.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 22
Kudos: 111





	In Your Hands

**Author's Note:**

> This was my piece for the Dimilix King and Aegis Community zine. If you haven't already you should definitely check it out!

Sometimes Felix liked to tell himself that if he had known how much paperwork would be involved in being the primary advisor of the king, he would have turned the job down. But only sometimes. Felix wasn’t generally in the habit of lying to himself. 

But there were moments, moments like the current one, where the idea of ditching everything for a life as a mercenary seemed much more appealing than he knew it would be. Moments where he was sitting in the kings office together with the king and fighting against piles of paperwork that he wasn’t allowed to set on fire.

It didn’t help that most of the paperwork had been created by old men with inflated senses of self worth who did not want to move along with the times. Felix preferred it when they presented their ideas directly, that way he did not need to read through their posturing and blathering and could instead glare at them until they got to the point. 

The paperwork on the other hand he had to read carefully to make sure they were not trying to pull one over him. Well, over the king. 

Who was suffering alongside him. And definitely worse than Felix at the whole deskwork thing. Which was just a bit surprising. After all, Dimitri had always been a diligent student, and very conscientious about getting work done. As far as Felix could remember he had also stopped regularly breaking his quills by the time they reached their teens. 

The recurrence of that habit had come as a bit of a surprise. More so, because it did not fade as Dimitri got used to deskwork again. If anything, it was getting worse. Felix had overheard Dedue asking him about it, but unsurprisingly, Dimitri had waved him off. However, the king's actions had convinced Felix that there was something going on, otherwise Dimitri would have given an apology rather than insist it was nothing. 

A faint crack and a bitten back curse drew Felix from his work again and caused him to look at Dimitri, who was shaking his hands slightly. In front of him lay another broken quill.

Snapped clean in half. Felix opened his mouth to comment and maybe figure out what was going on, when he noticed the look on Dimitri’s face. The king didn’t look frustrated or annoyed. He looked resigned. Resignation was never a good look on Dimitri.

Felix pursed his lips. Then he stood up and walked over to the king’s desk. Dimitri looked up at his approach, the morose look on his face vanished and was replaced with a sheepish smile. 

“Ha,” Dimitri chuckled self deprecatingly, “I’m really no longer used to all this writing. Aerdbhar is much more sturdy than a pen.” 

The way he said it jokingly, inviting Felix to join in on the fun might have worked, if Dimitri hadn’t simultaneously tried to hide his hands. Dimitri had always been peculiar about his hands. Even before Duscur. Too aware of the scars that he had gained over the years as a result of his near monstrous strength. The older he got the more often he wore gloves. In the academy he hadn’t even taken his gauntlets off to eat.

He did take them off in his office, however, Felix chided himself for not paying attention before. 

“Oh?” Felix asked him and leaned his hip against the wide desk. “It has been some month since the worst of the fighting is over.” He raised his brows, eyes intent on Dimitri’s face, looking for any hints of what was going on in his mind, “You didn’t use to have so much trouble.”

Dimitri smiled sheepishly, but there was a tightness to his expression that belied the lightness of the exchange. Felix allowed his gaze to flicker down to the paperwork before the king, now smeared with the ink from the broken quill. He could still make out the topic, it was the approval form for funds for the new orphanages. Dimitri himself had championed the cause, so it was not something that should frustrate him. Excite him maybe, but that was not the reaction Felix had witnessed.

Felix frowned and looked back up at Dimitri who had allowed the fake smile to fade from his face, and was looking at Felix almost morosely.

“So? What is going on?” Bluntness was still the easiest way to get what he wanted. 

Dimitri’s shoulders slumped and the last of the resistance vanished. 

Despite having pressed specifically for Dimitri to give in, the look of resignation that returned to his face made something sour settle in Felix’s stomach. Dimitri removed his hands from below the table where he had hidden them and placed them on the top of the table. They were smeared with ink as well, Felix noticed first, then he took them in.

The scars were expected, and although they were worse then when Felix had last seen, hardly a surprise. The way that some of the fingers on Dimitri’s right hand were bent and crooked - likely healed wrong - however, was. That explained why Dimitri had tried to hide them.

Felix’s short inspection ended, when Dimitri winced and started to rub at his right hand with the left one. Some of the muscles around his thumb seemed to be spasming. 

“Dimitri?” he asked, but Dimitri simply shrugged while letting out a deep sight.

“It’s just a cramp, Felix. I have them a lot, since I can’t even hold the pen properly.” The smile on Dimitri’s face was humorless, “At least on the battlefield I could do my duty.”

Felix bit back the nasty remark at the tip of his tongue and instead looked at his friend’s hand again. Dimitri noticed and, heedless of his still cramping fingers, held out his hand in front of him, almost hiding behind them. Felix could see another cramp starting, and before he could think better of it, he took the outstretched hand in his own and started massaging it. 

“Is that why you keep breaking the quills?” he asked and planted himself more firmly against the desk. Dimitri nodded absentmindedly, his eye fixed on their joined hands. Felix looked down as well for a moment, it was a strange sight. He did not think he had held Dimitri’s hand since they were children. Nevermind that this wasn’t even hand holding.

Felix tore his gaze away, and instead looked at the broken quill. “How many do you still have?”

Dimitri seemed lost in thought, so he tapped his hand with a finger to catch his attention. “Dimitri, how many?” 

Dimitri startled, but caught himself. “Plenty.” he answered, “I get a lot of presents, though I feel a bit bad about breaking them.” And he used his free hand to open one of the drawers of his desk. It was indeed full of quills. Though, less than Felix would have expected given how popular a gift they were. 

He massaged Dimitri’s hand for a moment longer, until Dimitri’s fingers closed around his own. “Thank you, Felix.” The smile was more honest again, so Felix simply grunted his acknowledgement and went back to his own desk.

They continued working, and Dimitri broke three more quills and kept rubbing his cramping hand. Dimitri waved away Felix’s looks and insisted that it was fine, but it was stuck in Felix's head now. Paperwork would be part of their daily lives forever, and he would not allow it to continue like that. 

That evening, when he moved to leave, Felix snatched one of the broken quills and took it along.

\--

Studying the quill made it easily apparent what the problem was. Dimitri’s badly healed hand could not hold the quill properly so that the tip of it was properly on the paper. The tip of the broken quill was twisted in a manner that made it all but impossible to write with it.

Felix tried to imitate the way Dimitri must be holding the pen, but it was awkward and uncomfortable for his hand. He could not imagine what it must be like for Dimitri who had to hold the position for hours while he worked. No wonder his hand kept cramping.

Felix twirled his own quill between his hands and considered the problem. The quills the king kept using were the expensive ones. The ones that had specifically fashioned handles that were supposed to make the use more comfortable. It likely was the opposite for Dimitri. So, how about a plainer one? Or one that was bent more?

He decided to test it out. 

\--

During the next council meeting when the king, who insisted on taking notes himself as it helped him remember - broke his quill, Felix handed him another one. One that had a plain handle, and was slightly bent. It survived the meeting, but the tip ruined when Dimitri handed it back to him at the end, and he kept rubbing his hand.

Not good enough.

\--

Felix made attempt after attempt, so, of course, Dimitri eventually caught on. 

They were working in Dimitri’s office again, and when the almost silent ‘snap’ rang through the room. At this point Felix could identify the way that Dimitri broke the quill by the sound of it. This time it was the tip. Felix handed him the quill - one in the imperial style, shorter and thicker - without prompting and without looking up, and Dimitri took it, but instead of going back to work, Dimitri paused.

“Felix?” he asked, his voice slightly subdued, so Felix looked at him, only to find the King gazing at him with an unreadably look in his eye. 

“Mhm?”

Dimitri’s lips twitched into a smile, but it fell flat. “I truly appreciate what you are doing,” he said, and twitched the quill still in his hand. “But it’s not the quills that are the problem, but me.”

And there was something very self deprecating about his smile. Felix pressed his lips together into a tight line, causing Dimitri to huff in half-hearted amusement. 

“I can deal with this just fine.” Dimitri insisted, his eyes crinkling as his smile got more genuine.

Felix knew that. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that he shouldn’t have to.

\--

Dimitri continued working and breaking his quills. Felix kept massaging his hand and stewing in the frustration. Until one day, the solution fell quite literally into his lap.

\--

He had to return to Fraldarius for a while, and found that a bird had taken to nesting right above his office window. It was tedious to hear the chirping of the chicks, but Felix did not have it in him to see the nest removed. 

Even less so, when the wind blew a feather into his lap through the open window. Felix picked it up to throw it away, only to pause. He turned the feather between his fingers and considered it. 

Maybe there was a solution after all.

\--

Turning feathers into proper quills was harder than expected. Felix had learned how to sharpen his own as a child, of course, but he did not want the traditional edge, but something wonky instead. Figuring out how to sharpen the tip without breaking it was more complicated then he would like to admit.

He went through plenty of feathers - thankfully Ingrid had bemusedly supplied more - before he even managed to create something with a tip that at least looked like it could work.

However, by the time Felix returned to Firdiad, he had enough quills that they should at least last the week.

\--

Dimitri’s face twisted in resignation the next time Felix handed him a quill. The movement was quick and practised by now, especially since he had taken to carrying around a supply of them. They had come in handy during a particularly frustrating meeting, and not just for Dimitri.

Now, however, the quills didn’t really work for him anymore, if anything trying to use them made him feel like  _ he  _ was going to get a cramp soon. 

“Felix,” Dimitri insisted, “It really isn’t necessary. I have plenty of pens-”

“I got them cheap.” Felix told him, cutting him off before Dimitri could put himself down, and it wasn’t a lie. Basic pegasus feather quills were very cheap. Especially in Fearghus. These ones had been cheaper still. 

(The only price to pay had been Ingrid’s teasing smile. Felix could deal.)

Dimitri smiled, cheering up at getting told he was being given something cheap. Honestly, that man. “Well at least I won’t have to feel guilty about breaking them then. I try to avoid the artistic ones, but…”

Felix simply grunted in ackknowdlegement, and went back to work. Only when the scratching of the quill started from the king’s desk did he glance up to take a look. The hold Dimitri had on the quill was still awkward and Felix could make out where the tip caught uncomfortably on the paper. 

Of course, the king did not complain. The quill did not last longer than the others, by the time the evening rolled around Dimitri had broken two more. Felix took them along when he retired for the evening. Claiming he would throw them away. And he would. After he had taken a look at them to figure out what he needed to fix.

The whole matter went one for weeks and to his surprise Felix found himself actually enjoying his evenings sitting by the fire and fiddling around with the quills. It required very exact bladework, and Felix was up for the challenge.

Eventually, his progress became obvious. The quills lasted longer and longer, and by the time Dimitri used only the one quill for the whole day, Felix was pretty sure he had figured out the general shape of the tip that was needed.

Felix should have anticipated Dimitri noticing that something was off, but he was too pleased with his success to brace himself. Dimitri broached the topic after a week of long lived quills. They had actually finished most of the work for the day, and were sitting quietly together for the moment. Felix was trying to build up the will to get up from his chair and retire when Dimitri spoke up.

“Say, Felix.” And the lone blue eye fixed on him, “I have noticed that I have been having less trouble with writing... less broken quills, less cramping.”

Surprised, Felix's pause was maybe a bit too long. “Good.” he said after a moment, “Have you finally got your strength under control?”

He did not look at Dimitri and instead shuffled his papers. It did not stop him from hearing Dimitri hum and shift his seat around the side of the table so they were closer together.

“Maybe. But I do not think that is the reason for the change.”

“Oh?” Felix was pleased by how unconcerned he sounded, at least, until Dimitri chuckled.

“Yes. Oh. I thought so too at first, but then Dedue borrowed one of my quills,” From the corner of his eye Felix could see Dimitri shrug, it was an unkingly gesture that Felix liked seeing, even if he had a feeling that he knew what Dimitri would say next. “And imagine my surprise when he informed me that he could barely use the quill.”

Felix scoffed, “So?”

“So, I took a closer look and,” Something in Dimitri’s tone made Felix force himself to face him. The king looked unsure and wass fidgeting with one of the quills. It was made from the feather of Ingrid’s own pegasus. “Those are not regular cheap pens, are they?”

Dimitri’s lone eye fixed him in place, the feeling in them made Felix uncomfortable, and not in a good way.

He shrugged. “They are pegasus feather quills. Nothing special about them.”

Dimitri’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You told me they were cheap. This is a custom tip, Felix,” There was an accusation in his tone, “I do not need you to spend money on such luxuries. I could-”

Felix cut him off.

“You could not deal!” And he was half out of his seat, glaring at Dimitri. “Daily cramps aren’t healthy, Dimitri! It means you did too much, but you did not take breaks. You were hurting yourself. And it was in a way that could be avoided.”

The words hit home. Some of the fight went out of Dimitri and he sank back in his seat. He fiddled with the quill that he still had in his hands, eventually, the fiddling stilled and Dimitri spoke up again, “You shouldn’t have lied.”

Felix clicked his tongue. “I didn’t.”

Dimitri looked up, disbelief clear on his face, Felix shrugged, but ignored it. He knew the truth. “Does it help?”

Dimitri nodded. “Yes, as I said... I have had far less cramps… and it’s easier to write.”

Felix could not hide his pleasure at the news, something that Dimitri noticed as well, but didn’t share.

“Dedue said I should ask for you supplier. It would be best to order them from someone who already knows the specifications I need- And that I should work with them directly to make it even more ideal.”

Felix rolled his eyes. Dedue was right, but Felix wished the man had pressed Dimitri earlier. “The only supplier is Ingrid’s pegasus.” He informed Dimitri dryly, “I hear he likes carrots.”

The king stilled, the sullenness disappearing from his face to be replaced by puzzlement. 

“Then who…” he trailed off, Felix looked away.

“I’ll get better.” Felix insisted because he would never settle for anything but an excellent result. “What does your vassal think needs to be changed still?”

The quill was placed on the desk with a soft clatter, Felix chanced a glance, and found Dimitri looking back and forth between him and the quill.

“You… you made them yourself?” Dimitri’s voice was very soft, his eye very wide. 

Felix shrugged and looked around the room for something to focus on, “Yes, obviously. Something needed to be done and you were being stupid about it.”

He heard the sound of Dimitri moving and getting up from his chair. Footsteps on the soft carpet getting closer to him. 

“Felix.” Dimitri’s voice was soft, but still held an appeal to his attention, reluctantly Felix turned to face him, fixing his gaze on the king’s nose. It did not stop him from seeing the rest of Dimitri's expression. 

“Thank you,” Dimitri’s voice was rough with emotion, “Felix… I… I am very thankful for your care.”

Felix felt the heat rise on his face.

“It is my job to take care of you.” He defended himself, flustered despite knowing that something along those lines would be coming. It was Dimitri after all.

“I think,” Dimitri said and his voice was very warm, “This goes well beyond the realm of duty, Felix.”

Felix shrugged, still avoiding his eyes. “It’s not like I’m here out of duty anyway.”

Dimitri took another step closer. “No?” And he dared to sound surprised. 

Felix forced himself to look Dimitri in the eye, drawing his shoulders up defensively. “Of course not. When have I ever given the indication that that was the reason I stuck around?”

Now it was Dimitri avoiding his eyes, his hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt. 

“Well, I thought you… did this because… Rodrigue and...”

Felix groaned, and, before he could think better of it, grabbed Dimitri’s hand to stop the fiddling. It also left him holding Dimitri’s hand. As soon as Felix realized this he made to let go, but Dimitri’s fingers had closed around his own. 

“Urg,” Felix stared at Dimitri’s chest, it was far safer than the nose, but he knew it wouldn’t do. Agonizingly slowly he forced himself to look Dimitri in the eye again. “Look.” He told him, “I’m where I want to be, doing what I want to do.” A pause, and he forced the last words past his lips, “With you.”

And then Felix raised the hand - crooked fingers and all - to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of it. Dimitri’s eyes went wider and his hand momentarily went slack before he squeezed Felix’s fingers gently.

Felix fought back the urge to break eye contact. His perseverance was rewarded with the sight of Dimitri smiling at him so brightly that his dimples appeared on his cheek.

So what could Felix do, but smile back?


End file.
